


every lever you’ve pulled

by wherechester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Canon Compliant, Castiel in the Bunker, Fluff, Grumpy!Cas, M/M, Sam Winchester Knows, cas is a literally the most stunning creature, cas is beautiful, dean knows this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 17:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherechester/pseuds/wherechester
Summary: Dean has observed some seriously beautiful shit in his forty odd years of living. He’s been witness to sunrises over rolling prairies with soft hair-like grass, sloping mountains with their looming wisdom and snow dusted caps, towering forests with reaching branches and shade covered roots. But none of it compares to Castiel.





	every lever you’ve pulled

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! this is my first deancas fic that’s made it to see the light of the internet. i’ve dabbled but never mustered up the will to post. but here it is, just dean musings and cas being the wonderful creature he is. enjoy.

Dean has observed some seriously beautiful shit in his forty odd years of living. He’s been witness to sunrises over rolling prairies with soft hair-like grass, sloping mountains with their looming wisdom and snow dusted caps, towering forests with reaching branches and shade covered roots. But none of it compares to Castiel. 

Dean is convinced the asshole doesn’t even have a clue how prepossessing he is. Castiel shuffles into the kitchen like clockwork on the mornings when he is idle enough to spend a night or two at the bunker. Dean isn’t sure what Cas does all night, meditation, research, Dean really has no clue, but he always beats him to the kitchen in the mornings. Because no matter if Cas is powered down enough to sleep, or juiced up enough to destroy a small town, he isn’t a creature who prefers mornings. Castiel’s anti-morning movement and Dean’s just-give-me-four-hours movement leave Dean as the observer, and Cas the headlining show. 

Dean often finds himself admiring Cas on these mornings, he can usually watch him without fear of being caught because Sam is Mr. Health and Wellness and insists on running more than Dean has ever ran willingly in his life every single morning. And Cas, well he has one objective in the morning, and that’s coffee. Poor guy, doesn’t even realize Dean is drinking him in with his eyes. 

Dean really can’t believe it. This creature, with incomprehensible power in his finger tips and ions worth of wisdom shuffles into Dean’s kitchen more often than not, and uses his coffee pot. It’s a little funny really. Cas, who might as well be naked in one layer, more specifically a disheveled dress shirt and a pair of decade old pajama pants courtesy of a Winchester. A centuries old creature is wearing his ratty pajama pants. And drinking his shitty dollar store coffee. And it’s the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen. 

The mornings aren’t the only time Cas proves unknowingly exhibitionist. He’s stunning when he battles. This one is a little less unexpected. The guy is a damn heavenly soldier for god’s sake. But Dean still finds himself feeling a sense of awe when Castiel flips his switch and becomes the terrifyingly powerful being that he is. It sounds something like bullshit, because how can you forget your best friend is a damn angel, but Dean does forget. And every time his gentle companion turns into the alien-esk creature he encountered in that barn so many years ago, he loses his breath. Cas moves with seasoned grace, with the hands of an ancient warrior. And when the danger is averted, the air often still smells of ozone and Dean’s skin is still prickled from the electricity that is Castiel. And the angel is almost always gorgeous as ever, hair wild from the intensity of it all, blues eyes blown wide. And almost always, Dean feels like he can’t breath. 

Dean’s favorite Castiel is the soft one. The gentle side that is usually reserved for the Winchesters. Most often though, reserved for Dean. Not that Cas isn’t always an achingly gentle being, because he is. He always exudes a certain aura of benevolence. Though, the kind of softness he shows Dean is intimate and years old. This Cas usually comes out during the rare movie nights at the bunker, nights when the world isn’t immediately going to shit and a werewolf isn’t gutting a thirteen year-old in an alley. These movie nights often find Sam out cold in the recliner within the first thirty minutes, usually sporting a sleeping position he regrets the next morning. Dean most often sinks into the couch with Cas, popcorn occupying the space between them. And Dean laughs a little too loud and tells Cas he’s full of shit because, “goddamn you sure do hog the popcorn for someone who says it tastes like molecules”. 

By the time the credits roll, the bowl of popcorn is nothing but kernels and has usually been retired to the coffee table, or if they’re feeling particularly messy, dumped on the floor. And Dean, well he indulges in the Castiel the rest of the world doesn’t get to see. This Cas, his favorite Cas, is usually carding his fingers through Dean’s hair by this point in the night, blue eyes soft with something Dean can’t quite read. Dean always feels himself becoming malleable, his walls squashed away in the softness of these rare moments with this creature, this angel. Who he can’t believe he calls his friend. His best friend. 

Often, Sam will stir and retire to his room, and Dean pretends to be asleep, face resting in Castiel’s lap, the angel’s fingers still running through his hair. Dean pretends he doesn’t crack an eye and see the soft expression his little brother shares with his best friend. Pretends he can’t imagine the small quirk of Cas’ lips as he sends Sam away with a, “sleep well, Sam”. 

Castiel is the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen. And the asshole has no clue.


End file.
